Parties, Hats and Lists
by CalaveraCandiedSkull
Summary: Gilbert and Matthew discover that wearing costumes, getting stone drunk, and kissing your best friend might just be the remedy for a broken heart. Crazy one shot of no real plot.


**A/N HAI YOU GUYS oh god America OKAY so this is what happens when I drink too much Coke and decide to write a PruCan oneshot. Haha. ...Yeah I don't even know what it's about. **

Matthew didn't know what had compelled Alfred to throw a damned costume party for his birthday. Nor did he know why he had agreed to coming. NOR could he understand just _why_ he had decided to dress up as a Mountie?

Now, standing outside of Alfred's house, listening to the chink of glass and pulsating music, and completely unnoticed by everyone around him, Matthew was seriously considering just going home.

"Oi, Birdie!"

Of course, as fate would have it, the self-proclaimed King of Awesome would just have to find him. No hope of going home now. He turned to face his friend/acquaintance/he didn't even know anymore and his jaw dropped. Like, _dropped_. Because when Prussia dressed up for a party, he went all out.

His black coat, lined with red satin, fell down to his knees, the white sash tied loosely accentuated his lean hips and the tall heeled boots clicked as they walked. A clumsy back hat adorned with a rose perched precariously lopsided on the side of his albino head.

Suddenly, Matthew didn't feel so stupid anymore.

"I can see by your dropped jaw and wandering eyes that my awesome outfit has bedazzled you," drawled Gilbert Beilschmidt. His eyes twinkled as they roamed over Mattie's delicious Mountie costume. "Birdie, you don't look half bad in that."

"You don't say," mused Matthew.

"Why haven't you joined the party yet?"

"To avoid meeting people like you."

"Ouch." Gilbert exaggerated a wince. "That hurts, my not-awesome friend. What has happened to make you so down?"

Mathew sighed. "It's...it's just all you people. Dressed up like the great figures of your history, displaying confidence and prominence..."

"Alfred's in a cowboy costume."

"That's Alfred."

"Good point." Matthew caught the roll of Gilbert's eyes. "Come _awn,_ Mattie, don't be so lame. Just for like, five minutes."

"Well..."

"Two minutes!"

"I dunno, Gil..."

"Mattie!"

"All right, fine!" Matthew conceded. "Two minutes, though."

Half an hour later, Gilbert and Mattie stumbled out of Alfred's house, completely stone drunk. Matthew had long ago abandoned his Mountie hat, and was wearing Gilbert's hat(complete with Gilbird flying around it in circles). Gilbert had somehow managed to steal Arthur's pirate hat, complete with feathers and all. As they stumbled down the street, singing as loudly as they could (i.e. Gilbert screaming, Matthew speaking normally) Gilbert slung his arm around Matthew's shoulders.

"You know what would make this night so awesomely complete?"

"What?"

"Gettin' some hoez and rippin' off dey clothez."

Matthew groaned internally at Gilbert's horrid grammar, but couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud. "Yeah, thanks but no thanks Gil. That's not really my thing."

"Why?" Gilbert grinned and leaned in. Matthew could smell the liquor on him. "Why is that, Mattie?" He gasped. "BIRDIE! ARE YOU A VIRGIN?"

"No!" Matthew cried, unable to stop laughing at the way the whole street turned to look at them. "No, no, NO!"

"The why are you so against gettin' some hoez and-"

"Because. That's not how I operate."

"Ooooh. Birdie is totally a VIRGIN!"

"Am not!"

"You cannot seriously tell me that you grew up with Francis and you haven't been laid yet."

"That's because I HAVE been..."Matthew's voice died down as people began to stare yet again, "laid...yet."

"Really?" This was news to Gilbert. He had always seen Matthew as so innocent. The idea of him not being, well, _innocent,_ was just baffling to him.

Not that he minded, of course.

"So." Gilbert turned and looked Matthew straight in the eyes. Matthew did not like where this was going. "So..."

"So? Who?"Gilbert grinned wickedly. "Or rather, how many?"

"...I should have lied." Matthew was unable to avoid Gilbert's red-eyed glare. "Um...let's see..."he seemed to count in his head. "Five."

"Five!"

"Well, four and one really steamy make-out session."

"Holy crap! That's almost as awesome as me!"

There was a moment of awkward silence as Matthew internally beat himself up for telling Gilbert. Because now...now he might find out...about..._him_...

"Who were they?"

Gilbert's question snapped Matthew out of his reverie. "Eh, well, there was Francis the first time-"

"FRANCE!"

"...You really weren't expecting that?"

"...Go on."

"Exactly, eh. Well, then there was that fling with Cuba, and _maybe_ me and Alfred were really drunk one night...is that weird?"

"Why? We're nations. Incest happens all the time." Gil stuck out his tongue. "Just ask my bruder."

Matthew cringed, trying to pretend he didn't hear that.

"Alright, so we had some Americest, what else? Any chicks?"

"Don't make it sound like I had sex with my brother. We just made out, that's all." Matthew glared at Gilbert. "And yes, there was one girl, that Ukraine..."

"What! Her with the boobs?" Gilbert whooped. "Alright Mattie! Scoring in the big leagues!" He slowed down. "So, that's..." he counted in his head, "...four." His eyes found Matthew's whose had averted. "Who was the fifth?"

Matthew mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Who?"

"...Russia..."

Gilbert stopped dead in his tracks. "Russia? What? HOW!"

"N-never mind that! So you haven't told me about all yours yet, eh." Matthew desperately tried to avert the subject. Luckily, since Gilbert was always so interested in himself, this wasn't very hard to do.

"Oh, yes! The awesome me has many adventures to tell you about! Haha!"

Matthew could barely wait.

"So obviously there's been countless times with Francis...I used to have such fun with Antonio but then that dumb little Italian grew up and all of a sudden he's all Antonio can talk about."

"So you lost a fuck-buddy?"

"Yeah, I-" Gilbert froze. He turned very slowly to Matthew, who was trying and failing to keep a smile off his face. "Did you just say fuck-buddy?"

"Why yes, Gil, I did."

There was silence for two seconds before they both burst out laughing. "M-mattie!" Gilbert coughed out. "And here I though all Canadians were supposed to be nice!"

Matthew giggled. "Only to other people," he gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Not each other."

Gilbert felt like his smile was going to crack his face, it was so wide. "Does that make me an honorary Canadian, then?"

"I guess so!" Matthew was hit by a brilliant idea. He pulled a red sharpie out of his pocket (although why one was in there, we'll never know) and drew a maple leaf on Gilbert's forehead. "There." He leaned back, rather satisfied with his work. "Honorary Canadian."

For a moment they stood like that, and Matthew felt the weirdest urge to kiss that maple leaf. He shook the thought away. "So. Who else was there?"

Gilbert started, as though coming out of a trance. "R-right." He blinked. "Uhmmm, well...I had some fun Germancest once-"

"Oh God."

"Tried to get both the Italia's, but bruder and Antonio butted in-"

"As to be expected."

"Poland-"

"How did you manage that?"

"Hungary-"

This time, Matthew did not interrupt, but Gilbert fell silent on his own. "And Austria," he mumbled.

Matthew nudged his friend. "You don't seem to happy about that last one. Care to share?"

Gilbert snickered half-heartedly at Matthew's dumb rhyme. "...I used to really like Elisabeta, a long time ago," he sighed. "We were young, granted, but it still felt like something real. She was my first," he confessed, glancing shyly at Matthew. "And I was hers, too. But, as fate would have it, that damned aristocrat got in the way. They got married, and although I still harboured feelings for Elisabeta, I didn't let them show."

Matthew was dumbfounded. "So, then...what happened with Austria?"

"I was drunk. I was angry. I hated him, but for some reason, I found myself in bed with him. Elisabeta found out, and she never forgave me."

"That's horrible."

Gilbert snorted. "Yeah, like you would know." Matthew fell silent. Gilbert glanced over in surprise. "Oh, Birdie, I didn't mean it like-"

"At least he remembered you."

Gilbert stopped, staring at the Canadian. His eyes were in shadow, his mouth twisted into a grim line. "I was playing hockey against Ivan one night."

Gilbert gasped softly. "Oh, Mattie, don't tell me-"

"I had beaten him. I was so exhilarated that I won, I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew; we were in the change room, going at it without a care in the world. It was-" Matthew broke off, voice breaking. "It was one of the best experiences of my life. I really felt like I could be with that person. Forever."

"Birdie-"

"But when I went to say hi to him the next day," Matthew began to shake, "He, he...he didn't even remember who I was!"

Gilbert said nothing, but pulled Mattie into a tight embrace. He allowed his friend to sob into his shoulder, clasping him, holding him tight. Matthew reached his arms up, wrapping them around Gilbert's neck.

"I'll never forget you, Birdie," whispered the ex-nation.

Matthew gently pulled away from Gilbert. Violet eyes met smouldering red ones. Matthew reached an arm up, fixing Gilberts hat. His hand brushed against his cheek.

Something snapped inside of Gilbert. He leaned forward, crashing his lips into Mattie's.

Matthew's eyes flew open, and he tried to say something, but it was immediately lost into Gilberts kiss. He leaned into it, closing his eyes, allowing Gil to wipe the tears off his cheeks with his thumbs. The young man's arms rose, and his fingers curled at the nape of the older man's neck.

Gilbert drew out slowly, pressing his forehead to Matthew's. "Never forget," he breathed.

They stayed like that for a moment. Matthew breathed in Gilbert's spicy scent. He couldn't remember feeling so good, so safe since-

Since Russia.

"Gilbert?"

"Yeah, Birdie?"

"Everyone's looking at us, eh."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Let's make a break for it on the count of awesome. One, two-"They both burst away, running at full speed to some shadowy alley where no one could stare at them.

Gilbert laughed, leaning against the brick wall. "I think we lost them!"

"They weren't even chasing us!" Matthew chuckled punching his friend in the arm. Gilbert caught his hand, staring into his eyes.

"Hey. Birdie."

Matthew felt a little intimidated. "Y-yes?"

"Look, I like you. A lot. I forget about Elisabeta when I'm with you. So," he shifted his weight, "If I could, you know, stay with you..."

"You mean like, permanently? Like, as a _couple_?"

"Yeah". Gilbert stood up a little straighter. "Yeah, that right." He leaned forward, grabbing Matthew's shoulders. "Forget Russia, Birdie. Become one with _me_. I want you more than he ever did anyways." Gilbert smirked triumphantly as Matthew began to smile. "What do you have to say about that, Birdie?"

But Birdie didn't answer, because he was entirely too busy kissing him.

**A/N Sappy ending is sappy. Cookie goes to the reviewer who recognizes the last few lines!**

**You see why I don't drink Coke anymore? This is the outcome.**

**Review!~**


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